


Just the Ex

by nonky



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: F/M, Victoria "Vic" Moretti/Sean Keegan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:02:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6341449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nonky/pseuds/nonky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sean knew they were done for, but divorce papers didn't slice love off at the signature line. He couldn't just let her die in the living room because she preferred they try to 'be civil.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just the Ex

**Author's Note:**

> Vic had three eventful episodes in a row for her personal life, and we barely saw her on-screen with her husband. It occurred to me how weird it must have been for Sean Keegan trying to find closure between all the catastrophes. Poor guy doesn't even have a relationship tag with his own wife.

Unlike his wife, Sean Keegan sensibly took some time off work after being held hostage by a lunatic backwoods survivalist commune. He read novels until there was a female character with a little too much Moretti mouth some poor asshole was stupidly falling in love with, then he put the book down unfinished. 

He cooked meals and put them in containers to freeze next to all the food they never cooked because he was out of town and Victoria was at work. He puttered in the garage. He thought about moving his stuff out of the bedroom and didn't do it. He dug out his game console and played GTA, enjoying killing cops more than even that game encouraged. 

He was in the living room, wondering the last time somebody had pulled out all the furniture to sweep underneath, and Vic limped in. She had a pink tinge under her nose and a hint of booze on her breath. There was a bloody towel in her hand. 

"Hey," she said, pressing the towel to her face and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I just need to change my shirt."

There was a little river of blood going down her front, and some blood dried in the creases of her knuckles. The rope burns and bruises hadn't even begun to fade, and she was beat up, again. Sean knew they were done for, but divorce papers didn't slice love off at the signature line. He couldn't just let her die in the living room because she preferred they try to 'be civil.' 

"Je-sus! Did you get hit in the head? How the fuck does this keep happening to you? Are you driving," he asked, getting her by the elbows to look at her. 

"It's just my nose. I'm not hurt, Sean." 

The weary affection was a leftover, but he responded to it, and maybe she was fooled for a second, too. He led her to sit, frowning as questions formed unwillingly. He'd tried not asking about work, really didn't want to know. Somebody had to remind her it wasn't normal to get hit every week. 

"Who hit you," he asked. It was barely ten in the morning. She'd been at work less than two hours. 

"Walt." Her back went straight and he felt his face do that flattened rage thing he was really trying to stamp out. "It was an accident. A suspect was talking about his wife, trying to get him mad. I got in the way."

He had to pace, hands on hips so they didn't turn into fists and add more violence to the situation. The one upside to Walt Longmire looking at Victoria the way he did was that Sean thought the man would be protecting her. He'd assumed even with the deputies Walt didn't eyefuck, he would try to keep them from getting injured. 

"You know I don't hate you, right," he asked sadly. "I mean, we don't work and we shouldn't be married anymore, but I don't want to hear about you dying in some shoot out with a cowboy sheriff and a bunch of Wyoming scumbag drug dealers. We moved here because it was small. You kept telling me how boring it was tracking down runaway farm animals and fining jaywalkers. I don't understand how it's worst here than Philly."

Her eyes teared and Victoria pressed the towel tighter as new blood soaked it. She leaned on her knees and sighed. "I guess I don't know how to stay out of trouble. If you ask my Dad he'd have told you I never learned."

Her own resignation made him calm down. This couldn't be his life anymore. He'd loved her as hard as he could, and he'd tried. Now it was just a matter of getting out with his skin intact. It had been bitter thinking he was leaving her to another man to try keeping her safe, but worse finding out he was just leaving her alone. He didn't want to be one of those divorced guys who could only refer to his ex-wife as 'the bitch.'

"Give me the shirt and I'll get it in the wash," he said. "Do you want to go to emergency? I can drive you."

"No, I have to get back. Walt had to go to Denver and Branch is . . . " she stopped herself, muffled in the towel. "Thanks, anyway." 

Sean nodded, carefully blank. He didn't know how he'd managed it, but he hated Walt even more than Ed Gorski. 

 

The truck was packed and relatively full. Sean wasn't sure exactly where he was going permanently, but it felt shitty leaving without giving an address for Victoria to contact him. He'd settled for having the local office of Newett Energy forward mail on to him. 

He'd intended to be gone by now, but it was hard. He walked the house a few times over, checking for personal items. The furniture was too big and he wasn't sure he wanted it. Newett would let Vic stay with a reasonable rental agreement. He wasn't going to leave her on the street. 

Sean was still trying to get past his queasy uncertainty, talking himself into calling a failed marriage a fresh start when the front door opened behind him. He nearly swore. 

Victoria had come in and pressed her back to the closed, locked door, looking as surprised to see him as he was by the bruises forming at her neck. Her eyes were glassy and she bit her lip. 

"Hi, I thought you'd be gone," she said hoarsely. 

"What the hell! Was this Walt again? Did somebody choke you?"

She shut down and pulled her shirt to cover her neck. "Walt pulled him off me. Branch showed up out of nowhere and he blames me for reporting him. He's in lockup."

She had said something about Branch last week, something about trouble coping and not to let him in the house, let her know if Branch was around. Sean had been angry that day, nodded and tried to stay out of the deep end. He couldn't do another round of Ed Gorski and IA shit. He definitely didn't need to worry why it seemed like such a personal grudge when Vic and Branch had never been close. He didn't need another guy to picture fucking his ex-wife.

"That other deputy? Do they fucking take turns beating on you," he said. "When does Ruby get to knife you? Should I even ask about taking you to the hospital?"

Tears were leaking down her face, but she was angry. "You're going, Sean, you don't need to ask anything. You get clear and we'll deal with Branch and . . . all of it."

He paced and breathed, and she sniffled. "Look, I didn't come here to have one last fight. We said goodbye this morning. I wish you luck, I hope you find somewhere good and someone who makes you happy. I'm gonna be okay, too."

It wasn't convincing. Sean didn't believe she would be, but he didn't believe it about himself. Victoria Moretti was a hole his heart was going to have to work around. 

"I never meant to be an asshole," he said quietly. 

"Neither did I," Vic laughed shortly. "You have a long drive and you can't stick around for this. I'm fine."

If he lingered another week he might be out of a job, or be there just in time for her to find out she and Walt were expecting twins. Sean gave her the best smile he could, trying to meet her halfway one more time. 

"You're tough, I know that. I made arrangements for you to stay in the house. Check the mail from Newett. You know how to contact me if you need to, I don't know where I'm headed yet. Listen, I - Can we just hug or something and I'll go?"

She looked down for a long moment, then brave Vic was ready with a big smile. "Yeah."

The only thing worse than fitting his arms around her for the last time and realizing how small she felt held to him was letting go and shuffling around each other until he could open the door. 

"Bye, Sean."

"Bye, Victoria."

His knees hurt going down the walk, and his back hurt sitting in the truck. Sean looked back at the house but she wasn't at the window. He found a Poison CD and adjusted his mirrors, then backed away slowly from Victoria Moretti and moved on with his life.


End file.
